


Completely Unexpected

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [64]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blaise being Blaise, Confusion, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Fluff, Miscommunication, Oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “You seem to be mistaken,” Zabini informed me, straightening up to his full height before he leaned in closer to me. Without realising it I took a step closer to Justin and Zabini’s eyes narrowed at the action. Speaking quietly, he asked, “Why in Salazar’s name would I bother caring about who you’re friends with?”





	1. Completely Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> This was written back on 29/06/17 and I've edited it a bit to post it onto here

Susan had taken it upon herself to educate me about our newest potions Professor. Apparently, the elderly man had previously taught at Hogwarts and had even taught her father when he had attended the school. I vaguely heard her mention something about how he invited his favourites to join some sort of ultra-exclusive club. I tried to pay attention to her words, I did, but all I could think about was how she had found out so much about the professor in the first place. Had she owled her father as soon as the welcoming feast had ended to get information about him?

She thankfully stopped her talking as we approached the potions classroom and I frowned a little when I realised just how small the class had become. Was this it? Well, it seemed that the professor wouldn’t have many people to pick a favourite from. 

I followed Susan into the classroom and couldn’t help but voice my curiosity, “Isn’t it odd that there’s not many people – sweet Merlin!”

Helga, I should have learned by now to look where I was walking. Especially because I was so clumsy. But I had naturally assumed, as you would, that I would be able to walk into a classroom without tripping over but even that seemed to be too much of a task for me. Without even knowing how I had tripped over seemingly nothing and went tumbling backwards. It was a small miracle that I didn’t crash to the floor but rather I had the misfortune of tumbling into someone. Whoever’s chest I had stumbled into, grabbed my shoulders to stabilise me. I let out a breath, startled by the sudden movement. 

“Thank you,” I said wholeheartedly feeling grateful to whoever had spared me from the embarrassment of falling to the ground. “I don’t know what I could have done –”

Peering over my shoulder at my saviour I trailed off when I met dark, unimpressed eyes. Blaise Zabini stared down at me, briefly tightening his hold on my shoulders. Blinking stupidly up at him, I had no idea how to react or what to do and he seemed to have had enough. He raised an eyebrow, dropping his hands from me and my cheeks coloured in utter humiliation when I realised I was still pressed against his chest.

Oh bollocks.

Hurriedly pulling myself away from him, I looked towards Susan who was still standing beside me. She looked as shocked as I inwardly felt. Clearing my throat, I hurried to right myself and picked up my bag from where it had fallen to the floor. As I slung it over my shoulder, I saw Malfoy appear behind Zabini’s shoulder. As if one unimpressed Slytherin wasn’t enough.

“What the hell is taking so long?” Malfoy asked grouchily, looking at the other Slytherin who was still looking down at me.

Helga, what did he want from me? Was he waiting for me to apologise for tumbling into him? Turning away from the dark eyes, I briefly met the lighter eyes belonging to Malfoy who, upon recognising me, began to smirk slightly. He looked between Zabini and me, completely disregarding Susan who I knew was standing beside me so I wouldn’t become cowed by the pair of them. 

“Oh,” Malfoy drew the word out, “it’s you.”

What was that supposed to mean? Zabini cleared his throat, making me look back to him. 

He pursed his lips, completely unimpressed, “Are you not going to move, Valentine? Or are you planning to keep blocking the doorway?”

“Oh, right.” Clearing my throat, I stepped aside to let them into the classroom. “Sorry.”

Why was I apologising!

Malfoy shared one last look with his friend before walking into the classroom and heading straight or the table at the back. Zabini remained where he was, staring down at me and I just wanted to demand what else he wanted from me? Did he need something else? An apology? A formal declaration that I would never commit the heinous crime of accidentally falling on him again?

“Valentine,” he called out firmly, making me look up at him. I waited for what he was going to say, “Is being clumsy synonymous with Hufflepuff,” he wondered aloud, taking me by surprise, “Or is that just you?”

Susan narrowed her eyes, “Listen –”

I reached out to hold her hand, stopping her from talking. Didn’t she realise that if she spoke back to him this entire encounter would task longer and that way my embarrassment would only continue to grow? I mean, I wanted to give him a piece of my mind too but I was biting my tongue. Simply because I didn’t want to be forced to listen to him for longer.

He acted as if Susan hadn’t said a word, “You need to be more careful.”

With that, he walked around us and headed to the table that Malfoy had occupied. I watched him go and barely resisted the urge to swear at his back. Susan didn’t bother repressing the urge. She continued to make a face at his back as she linked her arm through mine.

“You know,” she muttered with a grimace, “those words would have sounded caring if anyone _other _than him had said them.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” I declared as we walked into the classroom and I made a conscious effort to pick the table that was the furthers away from where they were sat. So what if we were the closest to the professor? As long as I was away from them then I was fine.

“How can you say that it doesn’t matter?” Susan demanded as we sat down. 

“Because I’m not going to see them around.” I rolled my eyes, “Think about it Susan; how often do we happen to run into Zabini or Malfoy? Those encounters tend to be left for the Gryffindors.”

“You’ve got a point,” she admitted begrudgingly as Professor Slughorn walked into the room.

* * *

Susan liked professor Slughorn as a teacher and while I certainly preferred him to Snape, I wasn’t exactly pleased with the number of essays the man set. Especially when there seemed to be next to no material in the school library that was of use. But what was I supposed to do? I needed to hand in the essay and if that meant I needed to search through the entire potions section of the library, then so be it. 

I was currently balancing a large stack of books that I thought might be useful, as I scoured the shelves for another one. Rising to my toes to look read the titles on the books, I let out a cry of surprise when someone brushed past me quickly. The books went tumbling out of my arms, spilling over the floor and I sighed, glaring at the back of the young boy who had run into me. Bloody Gryffindors running around as if they owned the school.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I blew the hair out of my face and knelt to the ground. Picking up the books that had fell near me, I began to place them in a pile. My eyes drifted towards the book that had fallen further away from me. Shoes entered my field of vision as someone stopped besides the fallen book. My eyes drifted upwards, meeting the eyes of the shoe owner. I barely contained a grimace. Especially when Zabini raised an unsurprised eyebrow at me.

Looking back to the books, I continued to pick them up and decided to leave the one beside him last. Silently I prayed that he would walk away from me without a second glance, but clearly that was asking for too much. Zabini crouched down beside the book, picking it up before he rose to his feet. 

I was forced to do the same once I had picked up the final book. Rising to my feet, I balanced the stack and leaned it against my hip for a little more stability. Merlin, they were heavy. 

My eyes drifted back to the tall Slytherin as I waited for him to hand the book back to me. It seemed like he had no intention of doing so and I struggled slightly under the weight of the books.

“Yours?” he asked, eyes flickering between the cover and my face.

I nodded, adjusting my hold on the books, “So if you’d please –”

He reached over to place it on the top of my stack and I turned to leave. Surely this was enough books? Even if it wasn’t, I’d come back later when he wasn’t around. He seemed to have no intention of just letting me escape as he called out from behind me.

“Do you have any idea how valuable some of those textbooks in your arms are?” he wondered and I turned back to face him, waiting for him to finish talking. Merlin, it felt like my arms were going to break off. “I know you weren’t raised around magic but surely you’re not _that _unaware to be acting so careless with them.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I replied testily, “Actually, someone bumped into _me. _It wasn’t like I dropped the books on purpose, was it? I don’t see what my upbringing has to do with it. Although I suppose using blood status as a weapon is a common past aspect of yours – or so I’ve heard.”

He didn’t appear offended by my words. Not even a bit. Instead, I could have sworn that he appeared a little amused and I had no idea why. He shook his head slightly, smirking outright.

“So, you _can _speak out for yourself then.”

He approached me, taking me by surprise and before I could step away from him he had shifted the entire stack of books into his arms with ease. I went to protest, growing silent when he threw me a firm look. I watched curiously as he scanned one of the shelves above my head and pulled out a book. He outstretched the book with one hand, gesturing for me to take it. 

Taking the book cautiously, I looked over the title before looking back to him curiously. “It’ll be more useful than all the books you previously had. Combined.”

My eyebrows pulled up in surprise which I voiced hesitantly, “Why would you help me?”

“Don’t read into it,” he ordered and I furrowed my brows, making a face when I was certain he wouldn’t see it. 

Looking back to the pile of books he held, he took two from the top of the pile and handed them off to me.

“There – that’ll be enough for your essay.”

My surprise only grew. More so when he began to return the books to the shelf without a word. I hurriedly walked away from him. He was acting far too strange. 

When I returned to my table, I began to pack my things when I realised I hadn’t thanked him for his help. Well, I certainly wasn’t going back to thank him in person. Looking around, I spotted his things on top of a table that was not far from my own. Hurriedly penning a thank you note on a piece of parchment, I walked to his table and placed it on top of his work. There, that would have to do.

Returning to my table I gathered my stuff and walked towards the librarian to check out the books. I’d have no problem if I didn’t see Zabini for the rest of the term. Something about him put me on edge. It was like he was hiding something when he was talking to me like he had motives other than scaring the crap out of me. And yet I couldn’t think of what it could have been.

* * *

Professor Slughorn’s invitation to join his ‘Slug Club’ threw a new obstacle at my plans of avoidance. I had been tempted to reject the offer straight off the bat but I couldn’t deny that I was rather flattered to have been chosen as one of his favourites. Potions had always been my favourite subject, it was the one I was most talented at and the one that interested me the most. But the subject had been taught by Snape since I had entered the school and that had made me hate the subject by extension. Very rarely did Snape give credit where it was due and I had grown accustomed to not receiving the encouragement when I needed it. After all, I wasn’t a Slytherin so he couldn’t have cared less. But it seemed that Slughorn at least did that much – regardless of which house I was in. 

And so, I had agreed to attend the dinner but I hadn’t thought it would be quite as awkward as it was. I certainly didn’t expect to be the only Hufflepuff at the table and Merlin, I felt so alone because of it. Looking around the table I could see the cluster of Slytherins sat together and instantly wanted to walk out of the room, especially when I realised that Zabini was amongst the group of Slytherins. Before I could try to leave, Slughorn had come up behind me and pressed a hand against my back as if he knew of my wish to run away.

“Come along, Miss Valentine,” he said with a jovial smile as he inched me towards the table, “I take it that you already know the rest of the students.”

“Yes professor,” I said with a smile, turning back to the table and looking for an ally which I found in my fellow muggle-born. Granger looked slightly concerned but I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“That’s wonderful,” Slughorn said, making me look back to him. He gestured to an empty seat at the table, “Why don’t you take the seat besides Mr Zabini and we can begin our dinner?”

Taking the prompt, I made my way to the seat and settled down silently. Food miraculously appeared on the plate and everyone began to eat and I wondered how anyone could relax in this awkward atmosphere. Helga, I complained internally as I slowly picked up my spoon. How had I ended up sitting between a pair of Slytherins? On one side, I had one of the Carrow twins seated beside me and they were giving off a really unnerving vibe – I’d heard enough about the infamous Carrows who flocked to the Dark Lord’s side. I didn’t need to ask what they’d feel about a muggle-born like myself being here. 

But Helga, seated on my other side was Zabini and I always seemed to embarrass myself when he was around. All I could do was pray that I didn’t embarrass myself this time; there were too many eyewitnesses around for me to do that. 

As dinner progressed, the conversation carried on and the topic drifted to parentage and I once again wondered how I had the misfortune to sit between blood purists and a man whose viewpoint I wasn’t sure about. But as I navigated through that awkward conversation, the focus was shifted to Granger who revealed that her parents were dentists. That took me by surprise and I thought briefly back to my own dentist – Dr Granger? Surely it wasn’t the same person?

A hand was placed on my elbow, taking me by surprise. Peering down at the hand, I met Zabini’s eyes which he rolled before gesturing towards Professor Slughorn who was watching me expectantly.

“I’m sorry professor,” I apologised, feeling Zabini’s touch as if I had grown hypersensitive to it. I was waiting for him to remove it. “What was that?”

“Professor Sprout tells me that you wish to become a potioneer after school?” He smiled, growing excited by my obvious passion for the subject, “She claims there’s already a potion you wish to create.”

I grew a little embarrassed at the probing and reached up to tuck some of my hair behind my ear, “Ah that. I’ve been told that I have a talent for potions and well, I wanted to be able to help as much as I can.”

“A noble goal,” he assured me with a compassioned nod and took the hint to move on to someone else.

Tension eased out of my spine as everyone’s eyes turned to someone else. Well, almost everyone’s. Zabini leaned back in his seat, turning his head towards me and I fought not to cry out. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Was terrorising me really that enjoyable for him? 

“Potions, huh?” he asked quietly as I picked at my dessert, resolutely refusing to look his way.

“What about it?” I muttered under my breath, trying not to gain attention from anyone else.

“What potion do you think you could create?” His curiosity caught me by surprise, so much so that I forgot my resolution of not looking at him. 

I glanced at him with barely concealed shock. “You want to know?”

“You said you wanted to help people,” he carried on, making me nod slowly, “and Slughorn says you already have an idea. Naturally, I’m curious about what the idea is.”

“Naturally,” I agreed before hesitating, “there’s this breed to plant native to the Welsh coast called that appears to look similar to gillyweed but its magical properties differ greatly.” I paused for a moment to see if I was boring him but he only nodded back, waiting for me to continue, “It was discovered that the plant has the capabilities to reverse the intense damage accused by hexes such as the cruciatus –”

I trailed off, realising who I was talking to. Clearing my throat, I looked back to my dessert and began to pick at it again. The weight of Zabini’s stare settled onto the side of my face for a few seconds before he too turned to face the front and looked to whoever was currently talking. 

Letting out a breath, I raised my goblet to my lips.

* * *

Hannah, apparently recovering from a breakup, demanded that the entire ‘gang’ went to Hogsmeade together. For a moment I wondered whether she realised that the people she referred to as the ‘gang’ was in fact the entire Hufflepuff sixth year and it would not only be practically impossible for all 9 of us to go to Hogsmeade together but it would be impractical too. However, when Hannah looked as if she would cry when presented with those facts, we were quick to change the subject. That was until Hannah declared the same thing in the middle of Hogsmeade. 

The group of 9 quickly split into smaller groups as different people wanted to head into different shops but we promised to head up in the Hogs Head before we needed to return to the castle. That was how I had been left alone with Justin in the middle of Hogsmeade.

He tucked his hands into his coat pocket and gestured to one of the shops behind him. “Do you want to head into Zonko’s?”

“Why not?” I agreed with a smile and we both headed towards the crowded shop.

Justin held the door open for me and I thanked him as we walked inside, dodging a group of giggling third years as they stepped into the street. He took my hand suddenly, leading me further into the shop as he called out over his shoulder, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to check out.”

“Pranks?” I teased, removing my hand from his as we came to a stop before a display wall. He looked through the shelves, clearly searching for a product, “Now that’s not very Eton-like, is it Justin?”

“Would you let that drop, please?” he pleaded, casting me a glance. “I mentioned it once.”

“With all the pompousness of a true Eton-elite,” I giggled when I saw the rueful smile he gave as he shook his head. “So, what is it then that you wanted to see?”

“I wanted to get back at the guys for a prank they pulled on me,” he explained as he found what he was looking for and held a seemingly harmless box aloft. 

“I can understand wanting to prank Zach and Ernie, but what did poor Wayne do to you?”

“He’s collateral damage,” Justin shrugged as he looked past my shoulder only to grow serious within seconds.

“Justin?” I questioned, concerned. Stepping towards him, I put a hand on his arm. “What’s the matter?”

I followed his eyes, looking over my shoulder and met all too familiar dark eyes. Helga, why me? Was he following after me or something? There was no reason for him to be standing, looking so foreboding and intimidating in the middle of the aisle. 

Zabini shook his head as if he realised he was the centre of my thoughts and I dropped my hand from Justin, eyeing the taller boy cautiously, “I thought you had higher standards, Valentine?”

Justin rolled his eyes, refusing to take offence from his words and went to leave. He took my hand as if to drag me after him and I pulled away from him. This was all going _much _too far. I couldn’t let him continue to talk to me and my friends like that. 

“Helga Zabini,” I scoffed making the Italian appraise me with raised eyebrows, “Why do you have the most horrendous habit of getting involved in my business?”

“And why would I be doing that?” he questioned smoothly and I narrowed my eyes.

“Fine, if you won’t answer that question then answer another one for me. What’s so wrong with Justin, exactly?” Crossing my arms, I ignored the incredulous look Justin threw my way as I remained steadfast under Zabini’s narrowed eyes. “Or better yet, explain to me why the hell you seem to care about who I’m friends with?”

Malfoy came up behind him and I wondered why they walked around in pairs. He stopped beside Zabini and met my eyes before shaking his head. Hitting Zabini on the shoulder, he muttered under his breath, “Again?”

There was a still silence where I met Zabini’s eyes head-on and raised an eyebrow, “Well?”

“You seem to be mistaken,” Zabini informed me, straightening up to his full height before he leaned in closer to me. Without realising it I took a step closer to Justin and Zabini’s eyes narrowed at the action. Speaking quietly, he asked, “Why in Salazar’s name would I bother caring about who you’re friends with?”

He made no move to move away from me so I did it for him. Pushing against his chest I shoved him away from me. Although he didn’t move far, he stumbled a few steps back into Malfoy and watched me with unconcealed shock. Reaching out, I blindly took Justin’s hand and pulled him away from the two Slytherins. 

As we walked away from them I vaguely heard Malfoy say, “You’ve screwed up majorly –”

I made no effort to ponder the meaning of the words and instead continued to lead Justin out of the shop. He made no fuss and only when we were out of the shop and in the open air did I drop his hand. The confidence that I had managed to show in front of Zabini drained away. 

Justin peered down at me with incredulous eyes, “What the hell was that about?”

Tucking my hands into my pocket, I made no attempt to answer his question, “Should we get going to the Hogs Head?”

* * *

Slughorn’s Christmas party was coming up and all I wanted to do was not go. After the adrenaline rush of standing up to Zabini had worn off, I couldn’t help but feel like an idiot. Helga, I’d behaved like a rash idiot and now I was probably going to have to face him at the Christmas party. Unless _he_ didn’t go?

Susan knew that I didn’t want to go and took it as a personal offence that I refused to go. She had called a ‘meeting’ and I couldn’t help but wonder why other people had a say in what I did?

“Look, Susan,” I began with rolled eyes as I helped myself to some French toast, “I don’t want to go and that’s it.”

“Why not?” she protested, looking to other people for support, “If I had the opportunity to go then I would.”

“That’s only because you’ve built this image up in your head,” I countered, “you see it as some super-exclusive _fun_ club where we’re all buddy-buddy with each other and are privy to each other’s secrets. It’s nothing like that. Helga, it’s more awkward than anything else.”

“But you’re the only Hufflepuff that was invited,” she tried and just by the one sentence she’d won Ernie’s support. 

“You need to represent the house,” Ernie added and I gave him a look before returning to my breakfast. “We can’t always let Gryffindor and Slytherin get ahead of us.”

I sighed, going to counter his statement when a package was dropped onto the table by an owl as it flew overhead. Wayne was the first person to reach for it as he lifted the tag attached to the brown paper package.

“Who’s it for?” Hannah asked from beside him, leaning towards him to read it.

“Here.” Wayne held the small package out towards me, “It’s yours.”

“I’m not expecting anything,” I protested quietly, taking the heavy package from his arms.

Lifting the tag, all I found written on it was my name. With furrowed brows, I cut the rope from the package before ripping into the brown paper used to wrap it.

“It’s a book?” Susan questioned from beside me as I stared down at the book.

In my hands was a book about the research conducted into a specific breed of plant found on the Welsh coast. But I’d only spoken to Professor Sprout about this book once and she’d remarked that there were only ten versions that were printed and so each wasreally expensive. Apart from that, I had talked to – 

Instantly my eyes drifted towards the Slytherin table. But surely, he wouldn’t have – 

“Who’s it from?” 

“I have no idea,” I mumbled, looking back to the book. 

Carefully opening the front page, I saw an envelope tucked into the page. The envelope, addressed to me, contained a short, handwritten letter which my friends clambered towards me to see. I held it away from them, cracking open the Zabini family seal at the back. But why would he send me such an expensive book? Assuming that the letter would explain his reasoning, I looked over the paper inside of the envelope before frowning. Was that it?

_ **A present; from me to you.** _

** _It’s yours so don’t bother trying to return it to me._ **

** _B.Z._ **

Raising an eyebrow at the vague note, I placed it back in the envelope which I tucked back into the book. Again, I looked to the Slytherin table where he was sat, watching me as if waiting for me to make a scene. Setting the book aside, I looked away from him first and went to continue with my breakfast, even as my friends questioned me curiously. 

All I wanted from Zabini was answers. I didn’t ask for this book and I certainly didn’t ask for him to gift it to me. The only way I’d get the answers that I so wanted was for me to talk to him and to do that I’d need to be around him. With a sigh, I realised that I _would _have to go to Slughorn’s Christmas party after all.

“Su?” I called out quietly, “Is it too late to buy a dress?”

“A dress?” she questioned.

“For Slughorn’s Christmas party?”

* * *

I was determined that I was going to get an answer from Zabini, how I was going to do that I didn’t know. What I did know was that I was too much of a coward to go to the party alone and so I’d asked Justin to go with me purely for moral support. I also didn’t want to be the only person to turn up without a date; I’d have only ended up looking like a loser if I did that. Would Zabini bring a date with him? What did it matter if he did? All I wanted from him was an answer to the questions that had been plaguing me.

“Are you ready to go?” Justin asked as he walked into the Hufflepuff common room and walked towards the sofa that I had been sat on.

“I am,” I said with a smile, taking the hand he held out to help me to my feet, “Shall we get going?”

He led the way out of the common room and as we made our way towards Professor Slughorn’s office. We walked in silence and Justin fidgeted by my side, clearly wanting to say something. He battled internally over what he was going to say and stopped in his steps just outside of Slughorn’s office.

Stopping beside him I asked, “What’s the matter?”

“This isn’t a date, right?” he asked quietly, looking a little hesitant, “Because you’re a really good friend of mine but that’s all I think of you as and –”

“Merlin!” I exclaimed, recoiling from him slightly, “Who the hell gave you the idea that this was a date? You’re my friend Justin, practically my brother.”

He looked relieved, letting out a breath and smiling slightly. “You have no idea how glad I am to have heard you say that.”

“You’re not my type Justin,” I reassured him as we continued into Slughorn’s office.

Professor Slughorn greeted us by the door, pulling away from whoever he was talking to.

“Miss Valentine, I’m glad you could make it,” he greeted warmly, before looking to Justin. His eyebrows furrowed a little when he didn’t recognise him. But he held his hand out towards him anyway. “And this is?”

“Justin Finch-Fletchley, sir,” he introduced himself, stepping forward to take shake the older man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Professor.”

“You too, young man.” Slughorn cast a glance around the room before looking back to Justin, “Would you mind getting Miss Valentine a drink, she looks rather parched?”

Complying without a word, Justin stepped away to get me a drink. When he was a few steps away, he turned back to look at me over Slughorn’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow questioningly. I could only shrug in return. 

Looking back to Slughorn, I questioned, “Professor?”

“There are some people I wish to introduce you to,” he explained as he began to escort me around the room. “Although I am a little bewildered by your choice of date.”

“My choice of date?”

“I had thought I saw something with Mr Zabini,” he explained, not seeing the way I scrunched my face at the ridiculous thought, “But perhaps I was reading too far into things.”

“Perhaps professor,” I agreed quietly as we approached a pair of men.

Drawing closer to the two men I recognised Zabini but shifted my focus to the other man. The two stopped talking as we drew closer, turning to welcome us to the conversation. I found myself standing beside Zabini and tried to focus on the potioneer that Slughorn introduced me to. 

I briefly heard mention of a potential internship when Zabini ducked his head down to whisper in my ear, “Slytherin green?” in reference to my dress.

Refusing to pay attention to him, I smiled politely at the older potioneer as Professor Slughorn began to sing my praises to the older man. And as I paid attention to the conversation I realised that I _had _heard correctly – the potioneer did refer to an open internship that I could apply for. 

Just as I went to express my interest, Zabini cut in and took my arm, “Would you excuse us for a moment, Professor?”

“Of course, dear boy,” he answered without pause and escorted the other man away. 

When the two older men had walked away from us, I stepped away from Zabini and his hand dropped back to his side. My eyes looked through the room, seeking out Justin to remind him that I needed him to help me be courageous but I found myself watching as Granger used Justin to avoid McLaggen’s claws. I turned back to Zabini; she needed Justin more than I did. 

“Is there a reason you decided to pull me away from that conversation?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He didn’t answer my question – of course, he didn’t. Instead, he raised his glass to his mouth and remarked, “I’m surprised you brought Finch-Fletchley as your date.”

“Are you ever going to answer one of my questions?” I stared up at him in exasperation. “And for your information, I felt more comfortable being here with a friend. That way I’ll at least be able to talk to someone.”

“Friend?” he repeated slowly, looking down at me.

“Of course. Friend.” I stared up at him, not understanding the emphasis he’d placed on the word. “Why do you care what he is to me?”

“I don’t,” he denied after a short pause.

“Are you always so difficult to talk to,” I wondered. Shaking my head, I forced myself to keep firm, “Ok, I am going to ask you a question and you are going to answer this one at least.”

“Am I now?” he had the audacity to sound amused.

“Yes,” I ground out, “you are. Now, why the hell would you gift such an expensive book to me?”

“Isn’t it about the plant you were talking about?”

“It is,” I allowed, “But that’s not what I asked you and you know it. I don’t feel comfortable being gifted something so priceless by someone I’m only really acquainted with.”

“Tough shit.” Letting out a deep breath, I snagged a drink from one of the passing trays, “It’s yours now. Don’t let your pride hinder your progress.”

Looking up at him, I stepped away from him slightly. Was he always like this? Or was he just this pig-headed when it came to talking to me? And if he didn’t like talking to me then why did he keep doing it?

“Why is it so hard to get a straightforward answer from you?”

Turning away from him, I headed off to find Justin.

* * *

Somehow, someway I found myself sitting in a café in the middle of Diagon Alley. All I could wonder, as I found my eyes drawn to the door every time a new customer stepped in, was what the hell was I doing here? It was the middle of the Christmas holiday so why was I back in the wizarding world and waiting on Blaise Zabini of all people? 

He hadn’t even asked me to come either. He had essentially demanded it!

_The entire platform was full of laughter and the sounds of people talking as we prepared to board the train for the beginning of the Christmas holiday. Everyone was excited, understandably so. I was excited too! I couldn’t wait to go home and see the rest of my family. As a muggle-born, I was the only magical one out of my entire family and the only part I hated about Hogwarts was that I needed to be away from them for so long. _

_Trailing behind the rest of the sixth year Hufflepuffs I struggled slightly with my trunk as I tried to lift it onto the rain. Just as I went to grab my wand to levitate it onto the train, a hand reached out to take it for me. I looked up in surprise as Blaise Zabini effortlessly lifted my trunk onto the train._

_“Thanks,” I said hesitantly, watching as he turned to look at me expectantly. _

_“Don’t mention it.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it out to me. “If you want your answers then come along.”_

_With that, he was off walking further into the train and I rolled my eyes; blood Slytherin dramatics. My eyes drifted back to the piece of parchment held in my hand which I opened cautiously. Written inside was the location of a café, a time and a date and nothing more. _

_There was a call of my name and I hurriedly refolded the parchment, hiding it inside my pocket. I looked to where Ernie was standing, waiting for me._

_“What are you doing?” he raised an eyebrow, “Come along, woman.”_

_“Helga Ernie, keep your bloody knickers on!”_

I had been adamant that I wouldn’t come to the café, and yet the first thing I did when I got home was stick the parchment to my bedroom wall. And that was why I was sat waiting for Blaise Zabini, looking between my watch and the door. There was a minute left until the scheduled time and I silently promised myself that I’d wait five minutes. If he wasn’t here, then I’d leave. Simple. 

The door opened seconds later and I looked to the doorway to find him walking into the café. His eyes surveyed the room and I shifted a little on my seat as I watched him walk towards the table. The moment he had sat down at the table he picked up the menu and flagged down a waitress. 

No greeting. Nothing. 

How bloody rude. 

“I’ll have an iced americano,” he ordered, closing the menu and handing it to the waitress. His eyes drifted towards me, “What do you want Valentine?”

I gave him an odd look before turning to the waitress who looked hesitantly between us, “I’ll have a cup of Earl Grey, please. Thanks.”

As the waitress headed back towards the counter, I looked back to the silent Italian and waited for him to speak. Except he didn’t seem to have any intention of doing that. Growing tired of the silence I cleared my throat to see what he would do. He did nothing. Instead, he continued to watch me. 

“Are you going to explain or not?” I demanded with a raised eyebrow. 

He hesitated for a moment as our drinks were brought to the table. I assumed that he was waiting until the waitress was out of earshot but even then, he said nothing. Looking back to him I watched him raise his cup to his lips.

“Fine, if you’re not going to say anything –”

I rose to my feet, picking up my bag. Taking a few steps away from the table I was stopped by a hand on my arm. Looking pointedly down at the hand, I glanced at his face and waited. 

“Sit down.”

“I don’t particularly want to –”

“Please,” he sighed and just the fact that he’d said please surprised me into sitting down across from him again. “I’ll explain.”

“Well get a move on,” I cleared my throat, “I don’t have all day.”

“I have no plans of explaining everything to you outright,” he said bluntly, making my mouth drop open in exasperation. _Honestly. _What was wrong with him? 

“You have the audacity to _demand _that I come out here if I want an explanation and then refuse to give me one?” I scoffed, crossing my arms. 

“I’m not refusing,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually, without me saying anything. You’re a smart witch.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he declared. “So, how far have you gotten into that book? Is it any good?”

“It’s really interesting,” I admitted begrudgingly, “some of the work inside it is ground-breaking. That being said, I still don’t feel comfortable with you giving it to me. I’ll give it back to you when I’ve finished reading it?”

“How many times am I going to have to tell you that it’s yours?” He leaned back in his seat, “Besides, what am I going to do with a book on a plant I know nothing about.”

“But, still –”

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he interrupted.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, “Why?”

He rolled his eyes, “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going on a date.”

I sat upright in my shock, stuttering slightly, “I – I’m sorry? We’re doing what now?”

“You’ve got to count of three to decline,” he said with a smirk and my mind was still reeling from the sudden declaration. Sitting up, he leaned an arm on the table as he announced, “Three. That’s it.”

“You forgot one and two.”

He tilted his head, regarding me curiously with that infuriating smirk. “Would you like me to count all over again?”

No, that was the last thing I wanted. Without another word, I reached out to pick up my tea, taking a long sip of it.

“Good,” he said quietly and that was the first time I saw his genuine smile. 


	2. Epilogue: 1 Year Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you even listen to yourself!” he demanded, “You claim that I’m neutral and then lump me with them.”
> 
> “It’s the same,” I insisted, “To me, it’s all the same. Every time I’m being tortured, do you think it matters to me that you’re not the one doing it? Because it doesn’t. Standing around and doing nothing about it is just the same as being the one to personally cast the cruciatus.”

_1 YEAR LATER_

Hogwarts had long stopped feeling like home. How was I supposed to feel at home in a place where I was constantly being persecuted for something as insignificant as my blood? At the beginning of the year I had been so tempted to drop out like many of the other muggle-borns had done but we, the Hufflepuff seventh years, had decided that someone needed to be there to shield the unsuspecting younger students. They were still too innocent to be subjected to the Carrow’s torture and the rule of the death eaters. Now if only Potter would hurry back to the school. 

Detention had long since moved away from washing cauldrons by hand and had shifted more towards writing lines with blood quills, interview under the influence of veritaserum and the likes of the cruciatus. The last few months at the school had increased my pain threshold to such as extent that I wondered whether I had become unfeeling. Only Slytherin remained untouched with none of the students ever receiving punishment for being disobedient. 

That was the source of my arguments with Blaise who didn’t understand why I was still in the school instead of hiding away. He didn’t understand that I shouldn’t have _needed _to hideaway. Merlin, he hadn’t even picked a side in this bloody war. His mother remained neutral – although her dislike for ‘my kind’ was as obvious as Snape’s hatred for Potter. Blaise himself followed in his mother’s footsteps and remained neutral as if this was something that he _could_ be neutral about!

Helga, just the thought of it infuriated me. I took a moment to steady myself with a deep breath, curling my hands into fists at my side and reopening my blood quill scars which were just beginning to heal. Peering down at my hand with a grimace, I decided to stop by the room of requirement to get it healed by the hiding students. 

I was pulled suddenly into an empty classroom and the instinct to get away came to the surface. We’d all heard the stories about what some of the more unhinged death eaters did to the students they dragged into abandoned rooms. My leg shot out, nailing my captor in the knee but he didn’t move away from me. With a muttered curse, he pressed me against the wall with one hand and retrieved his wand with the other. My hand was there first, taking my wand from my pocket and shoving it into his jugular.

“Lumos,” he muttered quietly. The light illuminated Blaise’s features as he held me close to him.

I made no move to remove my wand, although my hand was shaking slightly. The hurt flashed across his features in a second when he realised I wasn’t going to put my guard down; not even for him. I had no idea where his loyalties laid. 

“Is this any way to greet your boyfriend?” he asked quietly, tense.

“You broke up with me the moment the death eaters came into the school and you realised that having a mudblood girlfriend made you a target,” I reminded him forcefully, watching as he pressed his neck closer to my wand. It dug further into his skin, my hold on it faltering for only a moment. “Right now, you’re just a boy who’s dragged a girl into an abandoned classroom and we’ve all heard how this story ends.”

“You don’t need to fear me,” he whispered, searching my eyes. “You’ve never needed to.”

Raising an eyebrow, I forced myself to act braver than I certainly felt. When had things gone all pear-shaped for us? “I’ve never feared you. I fear the people you’ve aligned yourself with.”

“I haven’t aligned myself with anyone,” he thundered, making me jump slightly. “I’m not one of them.”

I shook my head slowly, fingers aching from how tightly I’d gripped my wand. “I don’t trust you.” Even I could hear the lie in my voice, “Helga, I _shouldn’t _trust you.”

“I’m not one of them!”

“No,” I agreed gently, voice shaking slightly, “you’re much worse. You’re on neither side so you’re granted safety no matter who wins. It’s cowardly.”

His jaw clenched tight at the accusation and he grew cold at my words, “Bravery is for the Gryffindors.”

“And loyalty is for the Hufflepuffs.” Straightening up under his burning eyes, I lowered my wand to my side and reminded him quietly, “You might not actively promote the insane blood purity that _they _are Zabini, but standing by and doing nothing about it is just as bad.”

“Zabini?” he raised an eyebrow, “When did we revert back to using surnames?”

“The moment we ended up on different sides.”

“Do you even listen to yourself!” he demanded, “You claim that I’m neutral and then lump me with them.”

“It’s the same,” I insisted, “To me, it’s all the same. Every time I’m being tortured, do you think it matters to me that you’re not the one doing it? Because it doesn’t. Standing around and doing nothing about it is just the same as being the one to personally cast the cruciatus.”

He searched my eyes for a tense moment, shoulders dropping as he realised, “And it’s so easy for you to just cut ties with me?”

“What part of this do you think was easy? Suddenly having to act more courageous than I’ve ever been? Finding myself alone? Or suddenly being the target of a countrywide eradication scheme?” I hissed, “_You _cut ties with me. _You _were the one that decided that my filthy blood wasn’t worth it –”

“Don’t,” he ordered firmly, a hand coming up to cover my mouth, “Don’t call yourself dirty. Do you think I never regretted it? Do you not realise that by showing any affection towards you would have made you more of a target?”

“It would have made _you _a target.” Refusing to be swayed by his words, I went to push him away from me but he held firm. I faltered, looking to him and asking quietly, “Did you? Ever regret it?”

“The moment the words left my mouth,” he admitted, swallowing thickly as he grew uncomfortable under my eyes. “Did you hear about the traitor within Voldemort’s circle?”

“I’m not giving you the name –”

“Why would I ask you for the name if I already know it?” His question stopped me short, “Draco’s been pumping information out of Voldemort’s inner circle since day one, but how do you think he’s getting the information to the order?” I searched his eyes. I felt like I knew where this was going but I couldn’t let myself become hopeful. Reaching into his pocket, he held something in his closed fist. Before he opened it, he looked back to me. “Do you trust me?”

“I shouldn’t,” I whispered, staring down at his hand.

“But you do.” He understood, reading between the line. The relief in his voice was startling. Almost as startling as what was in the palm of his hands. 

My hand reached out to pick up the galleon, recognising it as one of the ones used for the D.A. But how had he gotten it in the first place. Unless –

“Malfoy’s been writing to you,” I realised with a start, “and you’ve been giving the information to the order from the beginning.” My bottom lip shook slightly as tears filled my eyes; how could I have been so wrong? “You’ve been on our side the entire time.”

“Don’t cry,” he ordered, voice firm but soft as he brought a hand to my face, cupping my cheek. “This isn’t time to be doing that.”

I needed to apologise to him, I needed to make this right. How could I – 

He pressed his forehead to mine as he said quietly, “Potter’s planning to get back to the castle. This is all going to end tonight. You and the rest of your freedom fighter friends need to get the younger kids out of the castle before it starts. Use the passage in the room of requirement to sneak them into Hogsmeade. The adults in the town have been informed and are already placing the protective wards –”

“Blaise –”

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, bringing his head down to press a kiss to my lips, “It’s alright, I understand. You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

“But –”

“If you really want to make it up to me,” he proposed, smirking slightly and seeming more like himself than he did since the beginning of the school year, “then you better stay alive Valentine so you can pay me back in full.”


End file.
